


A Collection of KillerCreamMare

by BlueDysania



Series: Collections of [14]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Kissing, Knight Cross, M/M, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Partial Nudity, Tags May Change, Uncorrupted Nightmare
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-19
Updated: 2020-08-29
Packaged: 2021-02-26 15:27:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23212345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueDysania/pseuds/BlueDysania
Summary: scenes of varying length and genre featuring Nightmare, Dream, Cross, and Killer! the pairings will involve all or some of these characters.tags will be added with each chapter, warnings in the Notes if needed, as well as a NSFW in the title of any chapter that requires it.Chapter 1: Cross was torn. He wanted everyone to see how amazing Nightmare was, but NOT like the way he was seeing him now.
Relationships: Crossmare, KillerCreamMare, Kream, Sans/Sans (Undertale)
Series: Collections of [14]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1081980
Comments: 23
Kudos: 180





	1. (Crossmare) Torn

**Author's Note:**

> will consider requests! no guarantees. :3

Cross was torn.

On one hand, he wished the common folk could see Nightmare the way he was seeing him now. Wandering around his bedroom like a sleepy kitten, slightly undefined violet eyes and his natural flat expression that caused so many to shy from his gaze, softened and almost inviting.

The eldest twin prince was so often demonized for being distant and the tendency to scowl rather than smile. His role in maintaining the darker side of the emotional balance only added more fuel to the fire. The villagers scorned his charge more viciously by the day, blaming him for every misfortune that fell upon their lives.

It made his marrow boil.

If they could only see… Nightmare was so kind. He worked tirelessly with his brother to find the most beneficial compromises for their people. He adored Dream and the tenderness he displayed for his twin was impossible to deny. The care he had for all those in their employ, whether any of them saw his hand behind their boons or not. Cross knew of a small out of the way plot in the gardens were Nightmare would hide away and read amongst the flowers he so carefully cultivated, grown from seedlings by his own hand so they would not wither at his touch; a solitude protected under Cross' watchful gaze. It was that kindness that caused him to be in so much pain. If they saw him unguarded like he was now, surely some would see that he was not some soulless demon.

Continuing to gather his clothes for the day and laying them out on his bed, Nightmare yawned. Stretching just enough to lift the night shirt he was wearing and exposing the tip of his tail bone and ischium.

Which is what made Cross so torn. Because the idea of anyone seeing his charge like this made him want to murder someone.

Nightmare preferred to sleep only in his night shirt and luckily it was long enough to hide anything inappropriate, _usually_, but it did nothing to hide the early morning flush to his bones or the lovely, unblemished white legs. To see him so vulnerable, that gentling to his demeanor when he was alone with only his trusted for company. Proud, stubborn, and kind. Gorgeous. And prone to causing Cross frustration on a daily basis.

He could see the leering eyes and lewd whispers, and they would be twisted with hate that already existed turning it into revolting fantasies. Cross shivered, the urge to maim a foe that existed only in his mind strong and with no outlet to be unleashed.

“Cross?”

Cross looked up from where he had been staring at the ground, “Yes, my prince?”

Nightmare was frowning at him and Cross belatedly realized that he had no doubt felt his fury rising. He took a deep breath and let it fade away. It didn’t matter, after all. So long as he had a say, no one would see Nightmare in a state to be taken advantage of. He let a smile loose as he took in the look of concern on his charge’s face.

“It’s nothing.” He said in answer to the unspoken question. He bowed slightly, gesturing to the door he’d just come through, “The baths are ready for you, when you’re ready.”

Nightmare did not look satisfied and it promised a later interrogation where Cross knew he would need to do some fancy word work to come up with an as close-to-truth lie that he could. But his charge nodded and grabbed a robe from his dresser, donning it and securing the tie.

Cross went to step outside, noting that his counterpart was leaning against the wall outside of the younger prince’s room. There was a twist to his grin and faraway look to his empty sockets that told Cross that Killer had been kicked out of Dream’s room for misbehaving again.

Only, a hand fell on his wrist and pulled him back in. He followed its deceptively light pull straight into a kiss. Cross huffed a chuckle at the demanding light in Nightmare’s eyes and wrapped an arm around the slighter waist, swiping his tongue at his teeth and eagerly deepening the kiss when they parted. When they broke apart, Cross was pleased to see Nightmare panting and looking pleased himself. There was a moment of silence between them and then his charge pushed at his chest.

“Now that that’s out of the way. Let’s get going.”

Cross followed Nightmare out of the room, ignoring the wink Killer sent his way. He was much more invested in the turn of Nightmare’s head and the coy smile he wore.

“Maybe if we have time, you can join me.”


	2. (Cream) Napping

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wrote this while feverish, so I think i'll probably end up going over this when i'm more, well, me. lol

Cross trudged down the hall, tired but satisfied. He’d been sent out to do some recon on the Star Sanses; more specifically on Ink and just checking in on Blueberry from a distance. The last thing Cross wanted to do was go anywhere near Ink but orders were orders and this particular order had come from Dream. Nightmare had tacked on a few requests for Ink but Dream had just wanted to know how his friends were doing.

Ink was complicated but Blueberry was… well he was _Blueberry_. The strange Sansational Blueberry who managed to both be a key member of the Star Sanses and yet foster a friendship with one of their enemies, Error. It… was complicated. Boy, if that wasn’t the story of Multi-Verse.

Cross shook his head; he’d done the job no questions asked and was finally back home. Considering this had been Dream’s request to begin with, he decided to report back to him first. The other details would only be of interest to the elder twin.

Still, after coming home to a very quiet mansion and finding Dream’s room empty, he figured he’d try Nightmare’s bedroom. Sooner of later, he expected that it would be called Dream’s as well. For all that Killer and he ended up in there, it wasn’t really their bedroom.

Which he was totally okay with. He liked his bedroom. There wasn’t much in it and wasn’t nearly as warm or cozy and he tended to wake up wishing there was someone beside him- but he was totally okay with this.

When Cross pushed open the door to Nightmare’s bedroom and peeked inside, he wasn’t surprised to see Dream was lounging on the bed. It was large, luxurious, and the comfiest thing Cross could ever remember laying on. Everything that Nightmare owned had a touch of hedonistic indulgence to it and the bed was a highlight of that trait.

From what he could see illuminated by the lamp on the bedside, the only source of light in the room, Dream was still fully dressed bar his beloved scarf. There was a lack of movement that was telling. Cross silently closed the door behind him and stepped closer.

“Dream?” He called softly, moving around the bed when he received no answer. And his Soul warmed at the sight of Dream’s peaceful sleeping face, smiling and aglow by the lamp. “Heh…”

Dream was tucked into a gentle curl, a pale leather-bound journal and pen with a calligraphy tip cradled in his limp hands. The journal was splayed open so with care to not look at the frankly beautiful penned words, Cross picked the items from Dream’s loose grip with patience alike to his recent spying.

Closing the journal, he rubbed the soft, worn leather. It was obviously old and well-worn; well-loved. A moon and sun eclipsing was press-etched on the front and Cross wondered if this journal belonged to Nightmare as well.

Cross set the two items down on the bedside table and looked back over at Dream, “Hmm…”

Ideally, he would get Dream under the sheets properly but doing so meant he had to wake the smaller skeleton up. Which then meant that Dream would insist on staying up unless the person who woke him up, in this case Cross himself, joined him. And Cross needed to report to Nightmare. And he didn’t plan on letting Dream drag himself after him because he would absolutely do that and look adorable the entire time.

Sleepy eyed and yawning… Cross shook his head, nope. Well, that just left one option then.

Shucking off his sword straps and cape in order to slide off his jacket, he set the accessory pieces down for the moment. Now with two free hands, he gently pulled his jacket over Dream. Being far broader than the other, it covered him easily and covered down to Dream’s thighs. He tucked in the sides snugly, shushing when Dream began to wiggle.

Dream made a small noise and then nuzzled into the fluff of the hood, making Cross’ soul just melt in his ribcage. Pleased, Cross bent down and picked up the accessory pieces, intent on hurrying along to find Nightmare.

A soft touch at his elbow stopped him.

“Cross?”

Uh-oh.

Cross smiled down at Dream, “Hey. You can go back to sleep.” He whispered, bundling up the strips of cloth.

Dream blinked blearily and then tugged at his elbow.

“I gotta go make my report.”

Another tug and some shuffle wiggling to create space followed up with a sleepy smile, “… You look tired, sweetie…”

It wasn’t that he wasn’t tired. He’d spent the last three days almost non-stop on the move. Ink was _hard_ to track when he was travelling around. Cross was proud to say he’d done it though. He was tired but he wasn’t desperate for rest, besides Nightmare didn’t like to wait.

“Come on.” Dream murmured and with a deceptively strong grip, pulled again, “My brother will understand.”

Cross folded and dropped the bundle of materials to the floor, hesitantly climbing onto the bed, “I…”

Dream shushed him, weaving his arm around him, “I want you to take a nap with me~.” He sang in between sleep-laced chuckles.

Well, that covered that then. He lived to serve. Cross laid down, re-tucking the jacket around Dream’s body and threw an arm over him to bring him closer. He breathed out slowly and sank into the comfort that was Nightmare’s mattress.

Dream wiggled and then pressed a chaste kiss to the side of his mouth, “Welcome home, Cross.”

Warmth blossomed over his skull and throughout his bones. “Thanks… Glad to be back.” Watching Dream fall back to sleep, Cross kept a steady caress against the back of his vertebrae and once he felt his own sockets dropping, he pressed a kiss where the circlet tended to rest. “Good night, baby.”

A small eternity later, something stirred in one of the dark corners of the room.

Nightmare stepped into the circle of light from the lamp and picked up the journal Dream had been writing in. It joined the identical journal he already held in his other hand. A tentacle then delivered both journals into the empty slots of a bookcase as a singular teal eyelight traced the two bodies sleeping intertwined together.

Glancing down, Nightmare scooped up the materials formerly discarded and threw them into the small laundry pile. He would make Cross do it later. Looking one last time at the pair, Nightmare silently congratulated his brother.

Sooner or later, Cross would come to realize he was welcome to their bed outside of their other activities. For now, subtle manipulations would suffice.

Nightmare strode out of the illumination and a few moments later, a sliver of light poured from the open door and just as quickly it shut again. And all was still.


	3. (Cream) 'I Love You' Kisses

Dream had a lot of love to give. He knew that of the four of them, he was likely the only one who would be proudly, loudly saying the actual verbal declaration for a while. He understood, there were circumstances that could not be changed nor ignored. He wouldn’t have it any other way.

But there were little moments, stolen and private when he would hear the phrase ‘I love you’ with three different voices. He treasured each utterance. Held it in his memory each time a moment came and passed without hearing it because others were nearby or personal demons were just a little stronger in the instant.

It didn’t matter. Dream loved them all the same! He was more than happy to wait and savor their affectionate words when they came.

But this… this was just being _spoiled_.

Cross pulled away slightly and murmured again, “_I love you._”

Dream sighed sweetly and let Cross lead him into another chaste press knowing what was coming as soon as it ended.

“_I love you._”

Another gentle kiss.

“_I love you._”

This time Dream leaned in first.

“_I love you._”

He giggled and Cross gave a small smile.

Another.

“_I love you._”

Cross carefully guided Dream to lay on the couch, hovering over him as they kissed the entire way down.

“_I love you._”

Dream curled his fingers into the jacket and brought him back as soon as he tried to lean away. They parted, the dark room glowing with their flushed faces and a burst of music drew their attention. The credits of the romance flick they had been watching was currently scrolling down the tv.

“So, uh, how’d you like the movie?” Cross asked, glancing at the screen and back.

Dream slapped at Cross’ chest with a laugh, “As though I could pay attention.” As soon as the first kiss scene happened, their eyes had met and Cross had leaned over. And one thing had led to a great session of kisses and-

Dream’s eyes sharpened in the darkness of the room, taking in Cross as he watched the brief ending credit scene that suddenly popped up. He traced the broad length of Cross’ shoulders, the arc of his vertebrae… and pushed upwards to nip at the exposed bone.

Cross shuddered above him, releasing the cutest little noise that Dream knew he would deny ever making, “D-Dream?” He gasped, looking back at him as soon as Dream flopped down onto the cushions.

Dream smiled, feeling breathless and excited as he tugged at Cross’ jacket, “Start the movie again.”

For a moment, Cross looked confused, then his face colored darker and with a quick swipe of the remote, the intro music began again and the remote bounced along the carpet. Dream wrapped his arms around his neck and they met in the middle.

“_I love you._” Dream whispered with Cross.


	4. Kneel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nightmare is raising his new kingdom, a new era, and that means everyone get's new outfits! The twins reign, Killer gets to live out his days as an assassin, and Cross... well he's the royal concubine.
> 
> Yep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by many wonderful people on Twitter.  
\- Askellie  
\- Wormy  
\- 0neType  
\- Symphoneum (the ART)  
\- hj_skb  
\- Ash the Rat

Cross scowled at his reflection in the mirror.

Damn them. Damn all of them to the Void. Damn Nightmare for emptying his closet of anything but _this_. Damn Killer for flaunting his amazing uniform <strike>and no he was not _jealous _that Killer’s a fucking_ assassin _and he’s a fucking _CONCUBINE_ _fuck you_</strike>. Damn Dream’s power of persuasion. This was the last time he let Dream’s puppy eyes convince him to do anything!

… He could almost hear them all laughing at him for that last one.

“This is humiliating.” He growled.

_This_ being a dress. And not just a dress, but a ridiculously floofy dress. He was ashamed to admit he missed the dresses that used to be in the closet. At least they were decently modest.

He eyed the low cut, violet flush growing only brighter as he tugged it up and accomplishing nothing. Doing that only drew attention to the ridiculously _Extra_ bows that were tied delicately around his wrists. They were long enough to almost hit the ground. Utterly impractical, Cross groused silently. They perfectly matched the lace collar tied around his neck, a larger bow framing his skull at the back.

He let his hands fall in defeat and the dress billowed because, it wasn’t _just a dress_, it was a _floofy_ one. His eye twitched with suppressed annoyance.

“Stop moving.” Came the amused quip from behind him.

Cross grinded his teeth, “Are you done yet.” It was less a question and more of an order for his spontaneous helper to actually be done. He’d been standing here for what felt like hours while something was being adjusted or fixed or whatever it was that dresses required to wear properly.

Nightmare hummed, “I suppose it will do.”

Cross didn’t wait, they were done and he would rather get this night over with as soon as possible. He turned on his heel, intending on pinning the darkest glare he could muster at the one responsible for his suffering- and faltered.

There was a spike of righteous irritation at the utter _smugness_ Nightmare was exuding but it was completely smothered by wonder.

Nightmare was kneeling in front of him. _Nightmare_. Was _kneeling_ in front of _him_. And he was _smiling_.

Abruptly, Cross reminded himself that this meant nothing. In fact, he was fairly sure that Nightmare was doing exactly what he wanted to maximize his own amusement over this entire situation and likely hadn’t realized the position they, he, were in.

There was nothing else to it.

That didn’t stop Cross from lighting up like a beacon at the sight. He stared, ire shriveling away and replaced by a whole new mortification. Nightmare’s smile grew ever so slightly and his tentacles flexed beneath the cape.

“Nothing to say?”

Cross closed his mouth with an audible click. Why was this happening? There was nothing remotely suggestive about this to begin with! Yet even in his own mind he sounded faint, still shocked and with an increasing heat that was making the airy dress impossibly hot, ‘..._Fuck_.’

No doubt able to sense the maelstrom of emotional conflict, Nightmare’s eyelight glimmered with unholy glee.

**Author's Note:**

> reviews inspire!
> 
> Requests: OPEN


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